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Airi's Log 2: A New Power
December 9r Airi stood frozen in wonder as she watched the Grandmaster Sorcery trail unfold before her eyes. The aspiring sorcerer before her was intense and focused; an Effendal man wearing minimal leather armor, with ceremonial tattoos adorning his face and chest. He stood tall on the stump of an old tree, chanting and quaking as arcane power surged through him, his arms reaching upward. His instructor, a mage in white robes covered in chains, incanted words of power to keep his student focused and in tune with the elements. His voice elevated to a roar as the magic surging through the air grew more and more powerful, yet the Effendal sorcerer stood firm, his entire body tensing against the onslaught of energy. It was truly a sight to behold, and Airi was simultaneously enthralled and terrified. The sorcerer being tested was a new, unexpected ally; an Effendal warrior named Fenbrose. Earlier that day during the battle with Leukraven, Airi had been rushed to his side to administer a healing potion which saved his life. Shortly after the battle subsided, Fenbrose had approached Airi to thank her and commend her alchemical prowess. Upon learning that she had recently taken up studying sorcery as well, he invited her and Rendall to accompany him to the Arcane Consortium to observe his impending Grandmaster Sorcery trial. Fenbrose’s instructor, Aleister, had requested help with the trial and Airi was eager to oblige. Together they had set up candles in formation on a raised platform, and Rendall had even retrieved a piece of a tree stump for Fenbrose to stand upon. “To separate him from the earth, the grounding source of his magic,” the mage had said; clearly this rite was meant to challenge him beyond his known abilities. Fenbrose had risen onto the stump, lifted his arms into the air and began to chant as Aleister had instructed. Several minutes had now passed, and powerful sorcery magic pulsed heavily as it swirled around him, invisible yet palpable. “We must not disturb him during the attunement,” Aleister warned, “It is imperative that he maintains his focus, for with this amount of power at stake, he may become… volatile.” The mage then glanced around the area, seeming to be looking for something. With an audible sigh, he said “With that in mind, I seem to have misplaced something that we need for this ritual. Please do keep an eye on him.” Airi nodded silently, eyes wide. Rendall also nodded curtly, absently grasping at the hilt of his two-handed sword. They watched as the mage whisked away down the street and disappeared into the shadows. The two exchanged nervous glances, then returned their attention to Fenbrose. He remained perched on the stump, though his arms were beginning to quiver as the arcane energy surging through him took its toll. Airi hoped Aleister wouldn’t be long. A few silent moments passed with nothing but the crackling of a nearby fire and the inaudible hum of arcane energy in the air. Airi took a moment to close her eyes and take note of the presence of the arcane forces at work. As a Decimal and a student of magic, she had taken naturally to the practice of Alchemy; a very measured, scientific form of magic. The ways of sorcery were much more ethereal, but she hoped with more study she would be able to harness that power as well. She took in a deep breath and concentrated, feeling a soft tingle at her fingertips as she attempted to focus arcane power there. But her concentration was broken when a panicked voice called out in the distance… “STITCHERS!!” Airi’s eyes shot open and locked on Rendall, who was already drawing his sword. “Get ready, Airi.” “Oh, yes, right..!!” Airi fumbled at the bag she had slung over her shoulder and began to dig for her spell components. This time, she wasn’t going to run away, especially not with Fenbrose in this state. Aleister had said he could turn volatile if disturbed; she didn’t know what that meant but given the amount of magical power surging through him she didn’t want to find out. He had to be protected. By the time she looked back up with her spell components at the ready, a pack of the horrifying creatures were ambling toward them out of the darkness. Rendall’s blade began to glow with fiery heat, and he charged at the monsters with an enraged yell. He swung his massive sword over his head and brought it down on one of the creatures, and it burst with flame upon impact. Airi gasped; it was the first time she had seen Rendall display this kind of power. It appeared that he had learned to channel his inner turmoil in new ways. Now it was her turn. Airi held a satchel of spell components in her hand and willed magical energy to flow into her fingertips once more. She felt a surge of heat and power as the components became enchanted with deadly acid. She let out an involuntary squeak as she flung the spell toward her enemy, and it met its target. The stitcher sizzled and writhed as acid splashed across its already somewhat decomposed form. Airi stood wide eyed for a moment, frozen in surprise, until Rendall’s voice snapped her out of it. “Stay back, Airi!” he called, “And stay focused! We can take them!” Airi nodded with newfound resolve. Together they fought, fending off the crowd of lumbering monsters as best as they could. Rendall’s sword flashed as he forced bursts of fire through the blade, slicing the monsters down into charred heaps. Airi stood at a distance, flinging her spells and cringing slightly at the unsightly work her acid made of the creatures. It seemed the battle was turning in their favor, and Airi felt a burst of confidence well up in her chest… it was then that an additional swarm of stitchers turned the corner. The color drained from her face as they descended upon Rendall, his body disappearing completely under their tattered bodies. His cry of pain was muffled by their hisses and groans, and the sound of tearing flesh… It was then that something inside of Airi snapped. She reached into her bag and grabbed as many spell components as she could hold, and against every natural instinct she had she charged towards the monsters. The motes of acid she had enchanted smoked and crackled as they flew through the air and pelted the creatures, and within moments they were all on the ground, disintegrating. As the last stitcher fell, a bone saw clattered to the ground. Amidst the bodies of the stitchers was Rendall, his arm halfway removed. Airi’s hands shook as she swiftly mixed the herbs required for a healing potion; she held the bottle gingerly and allowed her mana to flow into the mixture, and it swirled with sparkling energy. She nursed the draught past Rendall’s lips. He coughed and sputtered as he regained consciousness, his wound sealing closed. His eyes fell tenderly on Airi for a moment, but as his attention was drawn to a scene unfolding behind her, they filled again with horror. “FENBROSE!” he yelled. Airi quickly turned around to see a stitcher slowly climbing up the steps toward the platform where Fenbrose stood deep in his trance. Rendall tried to stand and take a step towards the enemy, but he faltered in his weakened state, “Fenbrose is vulnerable, we have to protect him! Keep it away..!” he mustered. “Kheep ahwayyyy…” the monster echoed in a raspy voice, as it took another shaky step up the stairs. The creature slowly lifted its weapon and prepared to strike… At that moment a fireball soared over Airi’s head and took purchase on the attacking creature. The stitcher fell motionless, draped across the steps merely feet away from the base of the stump. Airi let out a gasp of relief. The Returned had arrived, and among them was none other than Aleister. The group of adventurers quickly disposed of the last of the mob of enemies, leaving the area quiet once again. Hardly a moment had passed when Aleister announced, “It’s time to finish the ritual.” He handed a drum, the item that he had gone to retrieve, to Rendall. Rendall nodded and began to maintain a steady beat. Aleister rose up the steps to the platform where Fenbrose remained postured on the stump, and began to pace around him slowly. Rendall’s drum beats grew with swiftness and intensity, and Aleister thrust his staff into the sky, shouting loudly in a tongue that Airi couldn’t understand… at least not yet. With these final words of power, the magic pent up around Fenbrose released. A pillar of energy surged into the sky then back down into the ground, where Fenbrose collapsed. He blinked slowly as he returned from his trance, and massaged his fingers into the earth as he gasped for breath. Even though this trial had taken every ounce of physical energy that he could muster, the magical aura around Fenbrose was vibrant and strong. “So this is the power of sorcery…” Airi thought. It was a dangerous, yet powerful path. Was she ready for it..? If tonight’s encounter with the stitchers was an inclination, then maybe she was. She hoped she was. Airi approached Fenbrose cautiously, rummaging through her bag for a flask of water to offer him. “Congratulations on passing your trial, Grandmaster Fenbrose. We sure have a story to tell you.”